Price
by T.S. Atlas
Summary: Veigar wishes to crush Valoran, but, in order to do so, he must first obtain power. Unfortunately, however, there is a cost. Is the price of power worth it? His dreams, his ambitions...is she worth it?


_**A/N - **_So then, something I just threw together in a single sitting. I was fully inspired by a comic I saw on Tumblr by Tiny Master of Evil. But, anyhow, please, enjoy the read, and if you did, remember to favorite and possibly leave a review, thank you

Price

"Are you going to the library again?" Her sing-song voice asked sweetly, but, he could only furrow his brow to her high pitched voice, finding it rather annoying. He answered her with a slight grunt as he left his room, and even behind the now closed door, he could hear her still. "I'll wait for you here then!"

Pesky yordle girl, he thought to himself…ever since she had joined the League, she spent much time with him, much to the sorcerer's disdain. Always following him, always intruding into his room. She was loud and obnoxious and had the insane idea that the two were friends. He scoffed to himself. Maybe she was insane. From what he knew about her, she spent a while in a place called the Glade, a place where perception of everything altered by the second. Such a place was bound to draw anyone insane. Although, insanity comes in different shades, and where hers was colorful, his was black as night. His hand balled into a fist unconsciously as thoughts he'd rather not remember crept into his mind. He shook his head, clearing it of his past, clearing it of her, and instead looked at the door he now stood before.

Pushing his way in, he silently hobbled to the back, already knowing where he should look for the tome. He honestly couldn't decide which was more annoying. The purple haired nuisance that bothered him endlessly, or the wall he had hit in his studies. At the very least, he was thankful that she didn't like libraries, calling them boring. He had read through many tomes, many spell books, books of curses and black magic, many, many books, so many in fact that his room was littered with them. And yet, none contained the information he was looking for.

As he picked book by book from the shelf, he opened them, flipping through the old pages as his eyes quickly scanned its contents, trying to find…something. He was more than annoyed, at this point, he was absolutely angry. He needed to find it…to find…

"My, what are you looking for, little one?"

He turned with rage filled eyes at the sultry voice, ready to decimate whoever was brazen (or stupid enough) to call him little. But, he found no one there. "Oh, looking to improve your art, are you?"

He swung around, now finding a woman peering at one of the books he had discarded. Dressed in revealing leathers with a cape and staff, he saw the Deceiver known as LeBlanc. Her cold eyes looked at him as her black lips spread into a wide Cheshire grin. Her skin was white as snow, flawless, like porcelain, and yet, her makeup was as dark as a raven's feather, her hair purple.

"And what do you want, witch!?" He asked none too friendly.

"Why, I was merely going to offer my assistance," her grin never faded. She was up to something, he could tell. "Now, tell me, little one," he fist tightened, "what is it you are looking for? Anything in particular, or…are you looking for….power?" Somehow, her grin widened even more. "You see, darling, I've had my eye on you for a while now. I guess you can say I'm…interested…interested in your talents…and, I think I have something you want."

"What I want?" he spat. "What I want is to make all of you bow before me! I want nothing more than the END!"

"Ah, yes, Veigar! And what if I told you I could help you with that! If I could help you obtain that goal you seek, if I can give you the power you need, if I can give you the means to the end you so seek!" She edged more and more towards him, her eyes lighting up. "Of course, "she caught herself, calming down, "there is a price that you must pay. You, who have obtained such great powers on his own, must surely know cost?"

"Price!? I have had my body and mind broken, have bled, there is no price I would not pay! Now, tell me!"

Her smile went sinister. "Why, all I need of you is but one thing…that yordle girl of yours. The one who follows you around like a lost puppy dog. Give me her, and, your dreams will become reality."

He looked at her dead in the eyes, his eerie iridescent yellow eyes never blinking. And then…

"GAWHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA"

Leblanc was taken aback as she watching him break down in a fit of laughter, the yordle literally bending over and grabbing his sides at his maniacal display. "YOU THINK SHE HOLDS SOME WORTH TO ME!?" And so, his crazed laughter rang out. Centering herself, LeBlanc could only smile. She waited patiently for him to finish. They locked eyes once more, and, with a cold ring in his voice, he said, "Done."

As if from thin air, a black rose appeared in her hand as LeBlanc spoke. "Simply give this rose back to me and the job should be done. Think of it as our…contract, of sorts. Bring me the girl, and I shall fetch you the power you have been seeking after." Veigar took the delicate thing in his gauntleted hands, and like that, she vanished.

How stupid she must think he is, he thought, turning from the mess of books on the floor and making his way back to his room. Either she was telling the truth, he mused, and finally, after so long, he would obtain the power he needed, or, she lied to him, and in the end, he would be rid of one of his biggest annoyances. Either way, he would still profit from it. How giddy he felt, smiling to himself as he walked the long halls, holding the rose securely within his light grasp.

But, noticing such a minor detail, his pace halted, staring in wonder at his hand. The metal monstrosity that it was…no…he remembered that insistent yordle girl, always demanding to see his hands…he hadn't taken the gloves off in so long, he forgot that there was something even under there…and when he saw them, and memories flooded his mind. His gnarled hand trembled as he remembered all the brutal things that happened to him, but stopped not soon after, the girl holding his hand and smiled gently at him. Her grasp on him was light, and her hand so warm. She made him realize there was something more beneath his cold exterior, and perhaps…something beneath all the darkness…beneath all the hate…something…warm…

He gripped the rose tightly, crushing it in his hand as he hurried now, quicker than before, back to his room. Such nonsense, he thought, all that would do would make me weaker, and that is the last thing I want, the last thing I need. He did not need warmth, he did not need a friend, he did not need her. He was abandoned, that's how he became who he was now, that is why he wished to rule, why he took the title of Master of Evil, why he would sooner give her up than to sit idly while his dreams sat just out of reach. She was useless, no one would miss her.

He stopped, just before his door, his hand outstretched, a single thought ringing through his head. No one would miss her. No one. She was an outcast. Just like him. His hands trembled in rage. Like me? She is NOTHING like me! My hands…my hands are stained while she is still able to smile, while she is able to laugh, while there is still color to her, color other than black! We are nothing alike! She does not know what I have been through!

He grasped the doorknob tightly, ready to turn it, but…something…stopped him…a voice…his voice.

How long were you in there? How long were you alone? How long were you tortured? Tell me, how long do you think she was gone? An afternoon of playtime, perhaps…and yet, that single afternoon lasted centuries…you were abandoned…you were made to take the fall…but you were smart…you should have known what was to happen, you fool! But her…she was but a child…innocent and stupid…where were your friends when you needed them the most? They were gone, they left you. They left you, so you became this…you have no friends…but her…do you not think she was loved once? And where are her friends…all dead…all but one…you say you do not need her, but, does she need you? You say you do not need her, but, who else would understand your loneliness? Who else but another pathetic outcast…

The crumpled rose fell from his grasp, landing upon the floor as he hung his head. The price…its too much, the voice said, almost weeping…

"I've no need for it anymore, witch," he said, opening the door slowly, stepping in.

A hand outstretched from the shadows, picking the rose up from where it was discarded. "Poor shame…but, perhaps…another will be more likely to take such a deal…" the sultry laugh of Leblanc echoed through the halls, dissipating as her hand retracted back into the shadows, seeming to disappear.

He closed the door behind him, the room pitch black, but, he was used to it, his glowing eyes giving him sight. She lay on his bed, sprawled out and asleep, her hat fallen on the floor. He felt his fists tighten once again.

"GIRL!" he shouted, Lulu springing up instantly, surprised and scared.

"Uh, uh, yes!?" she questioned, looking for him in the dark, her high pitched voice squeaking slightly from the surprise. She was surprised even more, however, when she felt arms wrap around her body tightly, nearly crushing her.

"Uh, Veig-"Was she dreaming, she thought?

His voice was low and cold, deadly and edged, his tone enough to send shivers down her spine. "Shut your mouth, Girl, or I swear, by whatever Gods you know, I will end you right now, you hear?"

She hummed her understanding, honestly scared, but, her fears quickly dissipated as she felt Veigar's form tremble. Her eyes opened wide with understanding. What he was doling…it wasn't like him…how long had she known him? How long had she followed him along? How long had he always been rude to her, hurt her, put her down? How long had she known how abrasive he was? And yet…his words did not match his actions. His words, while scary sounding, while that usual abrasiveness that she came to know of him, that usual hurtful and cold tone, the way he held onto her now…it was like a child…a scared child…

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him lightly, but this only made him tighten his already constricting hold on her, his body shaking more violently. What is wrong with me…why…what is happening to me? Although he didn't make any sounds, tears dropped from his face onto her shoulder. Why...why was she so gentle…how was she…so warm…?

He shuddered, an audible gasp escaping his lips as he felt her hand travel up his back to his head, patting him softly. "Please, don't cry, Veigar…" she said, her voice shaking. "….you're going to make me cry, you know…"

But you're already crying, he wanted to say. But, he felt tired…his body relaxed against her small frame, his shaking stopped, and his eyes seemed like they were already closing…and as he calmed, he noticed how she was the one with the tight hold on him, she was the one trembling…

"I'm sorry, Veigar…I don't know what to do…"

Ah, but you don't need to do anything…you don't need to apologize…

"I wish…I could do something…you are my friend…I don't want to see you like this…"

He felt a weight be dropped on his chest….friend? Yes…he hated to admit it, but…that's what she was to him…he had no one else…no one but her…

And as he held her small frame to his, as she clutched his chest and he lay his head atop hers, he felt as if she had no one else…no one but her…so he would have to be there for her…after all…she accepted him, accepted the monster that he was…but still…even though he was cold, and hard, and abrasive…he could feel his heart beat…she would be his warmth…she would be his innocence…


End file.
